


You Really Shouldn't

by betp



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, happy new year y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 06:14:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betp/pseuds/betp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles tells Derek he loves him on the new year, and Derek reacts unfavourably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Really Shouldn't

**Author's Note:**

> I found this conversation partially transcripted in a sketchbook under my bed. Figured it was a sign. A sign of what, I don't know.

"See, see, no," Stiles says, waving his hands about, exasperated. "It isn't just because I was afraid you wouldn't love me _back_."

Derek puts his hands on his hips, eyebrows up. "So you're saying there is more than one reason you elected to keep the fact that you _love me_ a secret. Stiles, it's not like—"

"Look, Mister High-and-Mighty Deadpan…"

"It's not like this needs to have a fucking _ceremony_ attached to it."

"See, no," he says again. "Just, every time I try to say I like you, you tell me I _shouldn't_. So I just, I'm not gonna do it."

Derek's eyebrows drop, all _and there it is_ , and he fidgets slightly. "Okay," he says. "Well, try it."

"No," Stiles says. "I just said—"

"You could try it."

"You'll just—"

"No, I won't."

"You will."

"Just give it a try."

"No! You'll—fine."

"Fine?"

"Fine!" He squares his shoulders. Steps closer to Derek, frowning with purpose directly into his eyes. He takes a deep breath through his nose. Ready. "I like you," he says.

"You really shouldn't," Derek replies promptly, and Stiles' eyes shoot open, the size of saucers.

"See??" he shrieks.

" _See_?" Derek counters, and then they stare at each other, deeply chagrined. _You really shouldn't_.

"You are so fucking," Stiles says, but so fucking _what_? He shapes his hands around the words that don't describe Derek, tendons taut, fingers flexing, strangling Derek's ability to evade descriptors. He's so fucking. He's so fucking. Backwards? Emotionally constipated? Psychotic? Infuriating?

"I think I love you," Derek says. Vulnerable? Perplexing? "That scares me." Sweet?

Stiles stops twisting his hands murderously around the orb of language. Drops his arms, depleted. "Knock knock," he says weakly.

Everything is wrong with this conversation, and it shows on Derek's face. "Who's there," Derek says, and Stiles resists the urge to grin stupidly at his exhaustive willingness to play along with Stiles.

"I've been in love with you for years even though you seem to have made it your new year's resolution to piss me off until I die from it."

Stiles was sixteen the first time he saw Derek, standing creepily ten yards away, glaring in the forest. Now he's twenty-two and Derek is standing creepily half a foot away, glaring in the forest. Everything comes full circle—at least, it does if you squint at it. Derek's lips twitch into a smirk. "I've been in love with you for years even though you made it your new year's resolution to piss me off _who_."

"No, you messed it up," Stiles says, but Derek is kissing him and really, you gotta know how to quit while you're ahead.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> And then they fucked against a tree.


End file.
